Orenchi no Furo Jijou AU human
by Seijiro Dazai
Summary: Orenchi no Furo Jijou as it might have been if everyone was human. PS I don't own OFJ.
1. Doukyonin

_How did this happen?_ Tatsumi thought to himself as he gazed down at the man in his bed.

His mind cast back to earlier that day, when he'd been walking home from his part-time job at a nearby ramen shop. As he always did, he took the path beside the river, glad it was deserted that evening as was usual for that time of day. It gave him time to clear his mind from the hectic pace of work. As he walked along, the sun was setting, and he distractedly watched the way it made the water look like molten gold. He sighed, tired and glad tomorrow was Friday. The weekend would be just what he needed, even if he did have to work.

He stopped, his eyes pulled from admiring the water to a form on the shore. Was someone down there? He peered closer. _It didn't look like they were doing so well_ , he thought, _maybe I should help them_. Decided, he rushed down the hill, through the long grass and out onto the pebbled shore.

At first glance he thought the stranger was a woman because of the long and beautiful blond hair tumbling down their back. When he got close enough to see into the face pierced by light blue-green eyes; however, he realized his error. It was a young man about his own age, wrapped in a piece of dirty cloth. As Tatsumi surveyed him, he saw that where his shoulder and arm were exposed they bore myriad bruises and cuts, both old and new.

Tatsumi's yellow eyes narrowed in concern and he knelt down to ask the man if he was okay. Instead of answering, the man weakly said, "Help me…", and so Tatsumi made the split second decision that had brought them to his apartment, lifting the injured man onto his back.

When Tatsumi got the man to his apartment, he set him down in the bathroom and started to run a bath. While he waited for the bath to fill up, he made the man tea. The man took it gingerly, the sudden smile on his face at odds with his battered body.

He got into the bath quickly, seeming more afraid that Tatsumi would see his injuries than embarrassed over nudity. Once there, he sank down into the warm water with a moan that unmistakably showed how comfortable it was to have a hot bath and how grateful he was to Tatsumi for giving him one.

Tatsumi set his elbow on the rim of the bath and put his head in his hand, watching the man out of the side of his eyes. After a few minutes, the man started talking in a voice whose cheerfulness was at odds with his hoarse plea for help.

"This hot water's really nice," he said, giving what Tatsumi was starting to realize was his signature smirking grin. "And the tea, too. Can I have shampoo and conditioner? Oh, and some manga, I like to read in the bath."

Raising an eyebrow at the man's strangely charming impudence, Tatsumi complied and brought him the desired items.

"Thank you," the man responded, beaming again, "I'm Wakasa, by the way."

"Tatsumi."

"Nice to meet you, Tatsumi!"

"Yeah," muttered Tatsumi as Wakasa slid back down into the bath with a satisfied smile. Internally, he thought _what am I getting myself into_?

He sat down beside the bath again, shooting glances at Wakasa as the man lovingly shampooed his golden locks. Tatsumi wondered absently how the man's hair looked so good if he was living the kind of life that gave a person injuries like he had. Wakasa caught his eyes, saw the question in them, and explained,

"I've been living under the bridge upstream," he said, splashing water over his face, "but there's been some trouble in the area recently with gangs. People can be mean sometimes."

Tatsumi bit his lip and tore his gaze away from a particularly cruel looking scar on Wakasa's side. The man certainly wasn't wrong about that.

Shaking his hands to dry them, Wakasa picked up one of the manga that Tatsumi had brought over. Sensing Wakasa was preparing to be there for the long haul, Tatsumi looked sideways at the man and said,

"Uh, I was hoping to take a bath too, so…"

Wakasa turned his head and light blue-green eyes met yellow ones.

"Don't let me stop you," he said, "You're the one who lives here, after all."

"Okay," said Tatsumi, reaching for Wakasa's arm, "time to get out."

To his surprise, the blond lurched back towards the other side of the tub.

"No, no, there's no need to do that. I don't want to get out. You can just get in with me."

Tatsumi wanted to roll his eyes and forcibly pull the man out of the bath, but when he saw the fear in his blue-green eyes he decided not to. Wakasa would probably be difficult to pull out of the bath anyway, he was at least Tatsumi's size, if not bigger. He sighed and started to take off his clothes. He hadn't bathed with anyone in ages, ever since his little sister started to get creepy about it. That had set him off bathing with anyone, and, since he lived alone, there wasn't much call for that kind of thing anyway.

Once he was in the tub, Wakasa started prodding Tatsumi to talk to him, then, when he silently refused, talking to an inflatable duck ( _where had that come from anyway_ ), so he ended up getting out more quickly than he normally would. He made dinner, and as soon as he was finished, Wakasa was out of the tub and at the table, dressed in the shirt and sweatpants Tatsumi had left for him. A bored look on his face, Tatsumi gestured to Wakasa to take a seat, noting absently that he looked much better in Tatsumi's old and loose clothes that he himself ever would have. Wakasa fairly inhaled his stew, then started to look sleepy, so Tatsumi led him to his bedroom.

"I guess you can sleep here," he said hesitantly, and before he had even finished the sentence the man had flopped down on the bed and was pulling the blanket over himself.

After Tatsumi had finished washing the dishes and was crawling in bed beside Wakasa, he noticed the man was still awake.

"Good night!" said Wakasa, smiling again when he saw his new friend.

"By the way, when are you going to leave?" said Tatsumi in a voice he hoped said he didn't care what the answer would be.

For a second, Wakasa looked horrified, but then he smiled it away.

"This is a once in a lifetime chance," he said.

"Huh?" said Tatsumi indifferently.

"I don't want to leave!" Wakasa sobbed into his pillow. "Please don't make me!"

Tatsumi sighed. He didn't really want a roommate, but if he thought about how Wakasa had been living before, he couldn't let the man go back to that. It must have been dirty and cold, no place for a human being. Scary, too, if those scars he'd seen earlier in the bath were any indication. Anyway, Wakasa was actually starting to grow on him.

"Okay, okay, you can stay here for a while," he relented.

"Thank you Tatsumi, you're the best!" exclaimed Wakasa, thrashing about under the blanket in his excitement.

"Only if you stop moving," Tatsumi threatened. Instead of holding still, Wakasa grabbed him into a tight hug.

"Really, you're the best, Tatsumi," he muttered into Tatsumi's neck.

Tatsumi sighed again. He supposed this wouldn't be so bad.


	2. Takai

A/N: I don't own OFJ. Otherwise, please enjoy!

He'd had a stranger living in his apartment for a week now. It wasn't that big of a deal, really…

Except the cost.

He supposed it should be understandable that someone who had been homeless wouldn't understand the different ways costs could add up living in an apartment, but really, did he have to explain each and every little thing?

He remembered the first day he'd come home after leaving Wakasa alone there all day. He hadn't noticed anything was different until he opened the entranceway door and was greeted by a blast of rainforest-humid heat.

"Wakasa?" he called out, taken aback. It was then that his searching eyes found the open kitchen window. His brain did a double take. If the window was open, how could it be so warm in here? As his mind struggled to wrap itself around the unbelievable situation, he absently watched the steam clouds as they drifted out of the window like expensive white doves.

"Wakasa?" he called again, and then he heard it.

"Thirty-seven degrees," said the short computer-generated voice of the thermometer. He froze, his ice-cold blood a stark contrast to the heat of the room. _Had that thing just said…?_

"Thirty-seven degrees," it repeated. _This is not happening_ , he thought, feeling as if his organs would shut down due to the icy shock of his glacial blood.

"Okay, Wakasa," he said grimly, striding with determination into his bedroom. His new roommate was indeed there, lying spread eagle on his bed… in nothing but his underwear.

Fire burned behind Tatsumi's eyes and he spun to sag against the wall. The roaring in his ears was blocking out any other possible thought, except maybe one. Scars and bruises or no, Wakasa was _hot_.

Tatsumi concentrated on the roaring and forced that thought away. The only heat he needed to focus on was the heat Wakasa was generating by burning through his money.

He was about to turn to chew out Wakasa when the man in question spoke up.

"Welcome home, Tatsumi!"

Tatsumi gritted his teeth and tried to tamp down the insane rage that was rising in him before he turned to his new roommate.

"Wakasa, you need to turn down the heating," he said, manipulating his voice to sound as if he was only irritated instead of enraged.

"But it's so cold outside," Wakasa whined, "I'll get sick!"

"Then shut the windows," Tatsumi replied, mentally wondering how stupid Wakasa was that he didn't know that.

"But then I'll suffocate!"

Tatsumi put his forehead in his hand. Had this man never lived inside before?

"No you won't," he replied simply.

Wakasa looked deflated.

"Okay," he said sheepishly.

Tatsumi sighed deeply. Even though Wakasa had to be around the same age as he was, he acted so much like a child that it was hard to remember sometimes. _If he's going to act like a child I'd better explain in terms a child would understand_ , he thought.

"Listen Wakasa, at an apartment people generally keep the windows closed. And the thermostat isn't a toy; the heating costs money. So try to keep the temperature in the low twenties, okay?"

Wakasa looked disappointed, but nodded as his promise.

"Also, please put on some clothes," Tatsumi added.

Wakasa looked confused. "I don't have any."

Tatsumi wanted to correct him again, but realized Wakasa was actually right. All he had was that dirty sheet, and, even washed, there was no way Tatsumi was going to make him wear that. He walked over to his closet, haphazardly pulling out an outfit of clothes and throwing them at the bed. His new roommate obediently began pulling them on, but it was immediately obvious the two men weren't the same size. In the first place, he was taller, and his muscles were filled out in ways that the non-athletic Tatsumi's had never been. _I'll have to go out and get you some new clothes_ , he thought. _That'll be another unplanned expense on my already limited budget._

"For now, just wear these," he said. "I'll bring you some when I get home from work tomorrow."

Wakasa looked at him as if he'd just announced they'd be eating ice cream for every meal that week. With his golden hair, it almost seemed as if the sun was shining behind him. Tatsumi was impressed by how cheerful he was–he'd clearly endured hardship but could still smile like this. He felt a wave of compassion for the man, resolved he had made the right decision in allowing him to stay at his apartment.

The next day when Tatsumi returned home he was pleased to note the windows were shut (except the one in his room, which was open a crack, but he could live with that). The computer-generated voice of the thermometer no longer seemed so short when it announced "twenty-three degrees". And there in his bed Wakasa was sleeping wrapped in a nest of blankets, some of which Tatsumi hadn't used since the last coldest days of winter and had been storing on the top shelf of his closet. His new roommate looked so comfortable Tatsumi didn't want to wake him, but it seemed the man was a light sleeper, as he opened his eyes and beamed brightly as soon as Tatsumi entered the room.

"Welcome home, Tatsumi!" he said, repeating his greeting from the day before. "Am I doing better today?"

Tatsumi smiled internally. "Much," he replied.

Wakasa thrashed within the blankets and grinned even wider when he heard the praise. Then his smile vanished and a look of anxiety crept over his face.

"I'm stuck," he announced, panic lightly coloring his voice. Tatsumi swallowed a laugh and reached down to help untangle him from the blankets.

"I have some new clothes for you," he said, holding up the bag he had put down to help free his friend. "Try them and see what you think."

Again, Wakasa looked ecstatic and Tatsumi's money-spending pain was relieved by his delight as he put on each article of clothing, remarking happily about how well they fit, how nice they looked, and how grateful he was to Tatsumi for getting them for him.

The fourth day Wakasa petitioned Tatsumi as he was about to step out into the entranceway.

"Tatsumi, can we have beef stew again tonight?"

Tatsumi, who was distracted, gave him a brief nod as he stepped out the door, but as he was sitting at his desk at school during a break period, he thought about what the blond had asked. Beef stew again? The past few days they had alternated between hamburgers and beef stew, Wakasa excited to be eating beef and Tatsumi reluctant to deny it to someone who probably hadn't had many chances to savor the meat in the past. But if this kept up it was going to end up being a strain on his finances. He hated to tell Wakasa no, but how long could he really keep this up? He had better ask Wakasa to help him save money. The man had been pretty accommodating with the matter of the thermostat, after all.

When he got home, he prepared the beef stew as usual, then turned to his roommate.

"Say, Wakasa, why don't you help me try to save money? I don't make that much money, so I'd appreciate it."

"I don't know," replied Wakasa, sounding reluctant.

"Don't you want me to have enough money to make you hamburgers?" Tatsumi incentivized deviously. "Maybe you'd rather have tofu burgers instead."

Wakasa's face darkened in horror.

"Of course I'll help you save money!" he exclaimed. "Whatever you ask!"

"Thank you for your cooperation," Tatsumi replied dryly, humored by Wakasa's quick turnaround.

"Firstly, keep up the good work with the thermostat," he instructed. "You can always put on one of your sweaters if you feel cold." Wakasa nodded gamely, a serious look on his face. "Second, don't take too long in the bath. It wastes hot water."

"I'll just take my bath with you!" Wakasa exclaimed, enthusiastically promoting his favored solution.

"That's okay, I guess," Tatsumi replied. "With food, we'll have to eat more vegetable-based. Meat is just too expensive."

This was clearly the point Wakasa was most resistant to. He sank into a dark depression, saying in low murmur,

"I guess if that's what's necessary."

Tatsumi gave him a long look. _This is no good_ , he thought _, if I restrict his food like this it's just like when he was homeless_. _He already doesn't have much_.

He got up, taking their dishes to the sink and washing them.

"Never mind that," he said, his back turned to Wakasa. "I'll just pick up more hours at my part-time job. That way we'll have enough money to eat whatever you want."

"What?!" exclaimed Wakasa, concerned, "don't make yourself go through such hardship just for me." He sprang up and put his hand comfortingly on Tatsumi's shoulder.

"It's not a hardship," Tatsumi mumbled, but Wakasa continued on, not hearing him.

"Take me with you," he pleaded. "I'll get a job too!" He pulled Tatsumi into a tight hug, demonstrating the strength of his resolve by the strength of his hug.

Tatsumi didn't think that would be likely to happen: Wakasa probably didn't have the necessary documentation and experience to apply for a job.

"No," he replied. "You stay here."

Wakasa reluctantly acquiesced, and Tatsumi made a mental note to ask for more hours at work. He wanted Wakasa to be happy and carefree; after all, the cheerful blond had probably had to struggle for most of his life before Tatsumi had taken him in. And he had to admit he loved the feeling he got when Wakasa smiled at him.


	3. Tako

A/N: I don't own OFJ. Otherwise, please enjoy!

Tatsumi heard the voice even before he saw the extra pair of shoes in the entryway.

"Nice digs you've got here," the deep voice commented.

"Shut up," the blond man's voice fired back, sounding annoyed.

In retrospect, the familiar tone should have cued him into the friendship between the stranger and his roommate, but in the moment, he was panicked. He imagined someone had broken into their house and was trying to take advantage of Wakasa. The imagine of the blond man's scared and beaten body as he'd discovered it the first day they met swam before his eyes and his heart raced with worry. He had to do something, to protect him.

He kicked his shoes off haphazardly, not even bothering to place them carefully to the side, and violently threw open the door connecting the entryway with the main room of his apartment.

"Wakasa!" he shouted, his voice filled with anxiety.

His roommate was sitting calmly on the floor next to the bedroom door. Across from him, sitting at the kitchen table, was a tall, well-built man with shoulder-length fuchsia-colored hair. He wore a dark green tracksuit over a white sleeveless shirt and sported flashy sneakers as pink as his hair. Something about his appearance made Tatsumi think he must be a gang member, although whether that was because of his bulging muscles or the dark green and white T-shirt he had tied around his head to keep his hair back, Tatsumi couldn't say. Either way, the man's appearance didn't do much to reassure him he meant Wakasa no harm, though Wakasa's nonchalant demeanor seemed to suggest the blond didn't feel threatened.

"Hey there," said the fuchsia-haired man in his deep voice. "Takasu's the name." He threw up two fingers in the classically recognizable peace sign.

Tatsumi opened his mouth to ask what Takasu was doing in his apartment, but before he could ask, the pink-haired man continued speaking.

"Wakasa and I go back ages," he explained, taking a bite of the sausage pizza Tatsumi had been saving in the fridge for Wakasa, "I can't avoid him even when I try."

"Takasu," Wakasa cried, getting up from where he was sitting, "don't eat that, that's mine!"

Takasu ignored his plea, taking an even larger bite of the slice in his hand. The blond reached out to try to take the pizza away from his fuchsia-haired friend, but Takasu skillfully dodged the attempt.

"So you're Tatsumi, huh?" He cast the black-haired man a critical eye, and finished the slice, licking pizza grease off his fingers. "You don't look like much, but you do seem to be taking good care of our Wakasa here." He cast a sideways glance at Wakasa, who had collapsed onto the table opposite him, his arm stretch out towards Takasu's empty plate.

The blond, who looked despondent at the loss of his precious food, interrupted Takasu to mournfully cry, "my pizza!"

Takasu ignored him again, instead turning to Tatsumi.

"Since you've already become Wakasa's friend, what do you say about becoming my friend too?"

He got up from the table and walked over to the cabinets to get a glass as he asked. Tatsumi opened his mouth to tell Takasu to be carefully, but it was too late–the cabinet door, which had already been only delicately attached, came away in the muscled man's hand. Wakasa and Tatsumi gasped loudly; Takasu, meanwhile, looked only mildly shocked, as if he often misjudged his own strength and broke things as a result.

Dark flames of rage burned themselves into existence within Tatsumi's mind. How dare this man, an uninvited stranger, break something so immediately after soliciting his host's friendship!

"Friends?" he said, his threatening tone giving voice to the dangerous look in his golden eyes. "I don't know about that."

"Take it easy, Tatsumi," said Wakasa, recognizing the enraged ring of his voice. He hugged his roommate as if attempting to restrain him from attacking Takasu.

"My bad," said Takasu uncomfortably, finally reading the situation correctly and seeing how angry Tatsumi was. "Don't worry," he continued, his uneasy expression transforming into a sly grin, "I'll fix it right away!" To Tatsumi's surprise, Takasu's hands disappeared into the depths of his pocket, only to return holding a screwdriver and a clutch of screws. He immediately set to work removing the stripped screws from the door he'd unhinged and screwing his fresh new screws in their places. In no time flat, the cabinet door had been replaced, hanging more securely now than it had before Takasu had accidentally pulled it off.

"There you go!" The pink-haired man exclaimed proudly, pocketing his screwdriver and gesturing at his excellent craftsmanship.

"Wow," murmured Tatsumi, an awed look on his features. He tentatively approached the cabinet door, opening and shutting it a few times, testing the feeling of the new attachment. It was superb carpentry, he had to admit. He was almost grateful to Takasu for removing the door in the first place.

"His skill with tools makes up for all of his faults," Wakasa commented as Takasu wiped the invisible drops of sweat he'd accumulated fixing the cabinet off his brow.

"Well then, welcome to my apartment," said Tatsumi, secretly hoping the fuchsia-haired man would fix some more of the half-broken things around the apartment.

"Okay," replied Takasu, returning to his seat at the table.

Tatsumi headed into his bedroom to put down his bag. As soon as the door shut behind him, Wakasa leaned his head close to Takasu, his expression suddenly grave.

"Hey, Takasu, are you planning to stay here?"

"Not so fast," his friend replied, "let's see how things play out first."

For the rest of the night the two friends hung out at Tatsumi's apartment, sitting in his kitchen, sleeping in his bed, eating his food, and even bathing with him. Finally, as he was washing the shampoo out of his hair, Tatsumi said,

"Are you planning on staying here all night?"

"What do you mean!" cried Takasu, jumping dramatically out of the bath. "I thought you said I was welcome here!"

Tatsumi toweled himself off and dressed before giving him an answer, making the man stare at him wide-eyed, waiting for the suspense to end.

"I'm just not sure there's enough room for three men to live here," he said casually.

Takasu immediately looked dejected, casting his eyes at the ground.

"Wakasa can stay, but I can't?" he said, tears shining in his eyes.

"Ah, I didn't mean that… " Tatsumi replied hesitantly. He wasn't sure how the conversation had reached this point–all he had done was state a perfectly obvious fact.

"Fine," said Takasu, pouting, "I understand I'm not wanted here, so I'll leave." He got out of the bath, toweled himself dry, and replaced his clothes. Then, as soon as he seemed about to leave quietly, he turned back to Tatsumi, his eyes alight with a wicked glint.

"But don't think I'll leave just like that!" he exclaimed. He took Tatsumi by the shoulders, pressing his large hands into the black-haired man's skin. At first, Tatsumi worried that he was going to hurt him and tried to get away, but as Takasu continued to move his hands, he realized the knots in his neck were relaxing. He slumped his shoulders, his tension eased by Takasu's capable hands.

"I hope you liked your massage!" Takasu said when he was done. "Please let me know if you'd like one again some time!"

He opened the door to the bath, leaving Tatsumi collapsed against the lip of the bath.

"Bye!" he shouted, waving, then disappeared towards the entryway and out into the night.

"Thank you, Takasu!" Wakasa yelled after him.

Tatsumi turned his head towards where Wakasa was drying his long blond hair, having climbed out of the bath and dressed himself.

"Wakasa, what was that?" he asked, a peculiarly embarrassed expression on his features.

"I asked Takasu to give you a massage to thank you for letting me live with you," his roommate replied innocently. He grinned happily, "Aren't his massages the best?"

Tatsumi scowled, but he had to admit his shoulders felt terrific now that their tension had been removed. The two men made their way into the bedroom and got ready to sleep. Lying there in the dark, Wakasa suddenly said,

"He was the first person who ever noticed me, everyone else just ignored me. When he said he wanted to be my friend, it made me so happy, knowing someone cared about me. I know he used to be in a gang and he can look kind of threatening, but he has a really good heart."

The blond twisted around to face his roommate.

"You know, Tatsumi, I really appreciate you doing this for me."

"I'm not really doing that much," Tatsumi, replied, blushing.

"Trust me, you are," was the reply. Wakasa grabbed his embarrassed roommate into a tight hug, that, after a moment of hesitation, Tatsumi returned.

 _He wasn't really doing that much,_ he thought _, because it was something Wakasa made him_ want _to do._


	4. Kurage

A/N: I don't own OFJ. Otherwise, please enjoy!

Takasu, Wakasa, and Tatsumi were all hanging out together one day when Tatsumi decided to tell them the story of something strange he'd been experiencing recently.

"Did you know I saw a ghost around here?" he began. Wakasa and Takasu immediately started and turned to stare at him in shock, amazed that the normally practical Tatsumi would speak of the supernatural.

"Really?" they queried in unison.

Tatsumi nodded seriously, showing them he wasn't trying to exploit their gullibility.

"Yes," he assured them. He described to them his encounter with it–he had first seen it in the stairwell when he was heading out early to school, before the sun had risen. He had been a little tired, but there had been no mistaking what he had seen before him as a ghost. It was short and slight, veiled in blue-green haze. Even its hair was blue green, tangled like that of a water spirit, hanging down over its face and covering up its expression. _Water, water_ , it had whispered eerily. Tatsumi thought of himself as a sensible person, one who didn't believe in ghosts, and even if they did happen to be real, wouldn't be scared by one, but seeing the ghost that day a chill had dripped down his spine, as cold as ice water. He had stood there paralyzed until it had moved away, and had ended up being late to school despite having started out early. A few other times after that he had caught glimpses of it, but he had always dashed away, irrationally frightened it might do something to him.

Hearing his description, dark looks of fear formed on the faces of his two companions. He understood: it had been pretty frightening. But they weren't watching him, they were looking beyond him into the entryway.

"Veiled in blue-green haze, you say?" Takasu asked, sounding as if the temperature in the apartment had suddenly gone glacial. "Like someone wrapped in a cloth made of shimmery water-like fabric?"

"Yes," Tatsumi replied, surprised by the accuracy of his description, "how did you know?" It was then that he saw where the blond and redhead were looking, and his gaze drifted to follow theirs. As soon as it did, an identical dark look of fear appeared on his face to match that of his companions. There, standing in the entryway was the ghost he had seen that morning, looking as frightening as it had before. This time it was even dripping water, what a petrifying sight! The drops echoed loudly as they fell from the fabric covering the ghost's form onto the hardwood floor of the apartment.

"Hello," the spirit said in its unnerving voice. It raised its head, and the hair fell off of its face.

Tatsumi looked closer and was enormously relieved. It wasn't a ghost after all but a young child, dressed in the soaking wet cosplay of a ghost.

"May I come in?" Mikuni asked. Tatsumi nodded, thinking he must be immensely uncomfortable in that wet clothing, and the child entered the apartment.

"Thank you," he continued, "I was worried you would ask me to leave."

"No, no," he replied. How could he turn away a child?

He turned back to Wakasa and Takasu to see their reaction. They were still trembling and holding each other tight; it seemed they still thought he was a ghost. The two them were pretty naive, after all, it was no surprise they believed in ghosts.

The child was peering at the two men, taking in their strange colorations.

"Wakasa, Takasu?" he asked, recognizing them. "It's me, Mikuni."

The two men relaxed slightly, peering back at the child.

"Mikuni?" Takasu replied. "It's really you? We thought it was a real ghost."

The boy pouted. "I _am_ a real ghost," he insisted. Tatsumi gave him a disbelieving look, but he supposed that kids had overactive imaginations sometimes, maybe this kid really thought he _was_ a ghost.

"So this is where you've been staying, Wakasa?" Mikuni continued. "Looks nice."

"Oh, right," Wakasa said, suddenly realizing he needed to make introductions. "Tatsumi, this is Mikuni, the neighborhood ghost. Mikuni, this is Tatsumi, he took me in."

Mikuni smiled at Tatsumi, who reflected the boy still looked a bit ghostly even after his true nature had been revealed.

"Tatsumi, how nice to meet you," he said. He reached out and took both of Tatsumi's wrists in his hands, his grip surprisingly strong. "Won't you let me become your friend, too?"

 _Wow, he's strong_ , thought Tatsumi, _it's hard to believe he's just a kid._

"Weren't you hanging around the park yesterday?" he asked, remembering when he'd last seen the 'ghost'.

"Huh?" Mikuni replied, his expression confused. It was clear he had no idea what Tatsumi was talking about, even though it had only been the day before. "You saw me there? What was I doing?" He smiled a charming smile, his forgetfulness made cute by his diminutive features.

"He's dumb," chided Takasu.

"Yeah, really," Wakasa agreed.

In response to their criticism, Mikuni reached out and seized their cheeks, pinching them hard with his flexible fingers. They both cried out in pain, and he admonished them, telling them he wasn't stupid and that they were being mean.

"Hey, don't you want to dry off?" asked Tatsumi, worried about the boy's health if he continued to wear his wet clothing.

"Oh no, I like the water," Mikuni replied, smiling shyly at the black-haired man. His eyes suddenly sparkled as a light bulb went off in his brain. "Oh, that's why I was at the park, I was swimming in the fountain!"

Tatsumi gave him an odd look, wondering what sort of person swam in a fountain in a park, but the boy was friends with Wakasa and Takasu; after all, he should have been prepared for any kind of eccentricity. Besides, he was talking about someone who habitually dressed up as a ghost, if you added swims in park fountains to his description, it was clear which of his oddities was the stranger.

"Well, is there anything I can get for you?" he asked, still wanting to help the boy.

"Some hot tea would be nice," Mikuni replied, and Tatsumi hurriedly got up to boil some water for tea. He handed the warm cup to the boy when he was finished. Mikuni took a large sip and sighed gratefully at the heat of the liquid.

"Ah, that's better," he said.

He stayed with the three men, clothes slowly drying, until dinner time, when Tatsumi made beef stew for Takasu and Wakasa per their request. When Tatsumi offered the child a bowl; however, Mikuni turned him down, saying he couldn't possibly eat something so rich. He would be content, he added, with just some light rice and vegetables.

"Yeah, Mikuni doesn't eat a lot," Wakasa said, hearing the exchange. "That's how he still looks like that, even though he's our age."

Tatsumi was astounded. Mikuni was high-school age? He looked like an elementary school kid, a middle schooler at the oldest. He hardly believed it, but Mikuni nodded, confirming what Wakasa had proclaimed.

"Isn't there anything else you want?" he asked, worried Mikuni might be malnourished.

"Oh no," Mikuni replied lightly, waving the remark away with his fragile hand. He paused, then added shyly, "unless, do you have Aquari?"

Tatsumi narrowed his eyes. "The fancy water?"

"That's right," Mikuni assured him. "Do you think I could have some?"

Tatsumi stared at him, confused by the strange nature of his request and Mikuni misinterpreted his silence for a refusal, burying his face in his hands with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for being so forward!" he apologized.

"No, that's okay," Tatsumi replied, reassuring the childlike boy. He reached into the fridge and took out the bottle of Aquari he had just happened to pick up at the supermarket the day before. He didn't quite understand why Mikuni would want fancy water when he could have asked for something else, but he passed the bottle to the ghost cosplay-wearing boy. Mikuni accepted it gratefully and drank some down daintily, remarking on how good it was.

"Thank you so much," he told Tatsumi happily.

"Have as much as you like," said Tatsumi, weirded out by his behavior.

"Really?" Wakasa cut in, "Tatsumi, you're too nice." He beamed brightly at his roommate.

"It's not fair," Takasu added, looking significantly less pleased with the golden-eyed man.

Handing the bottle back to Tatsumi, Mikuni suddenly got up to leave. Looking surprised, Tatsumi watched him stroll back towards the entranceway.

"Mikuni likes to explore," explained Takasu, who had recovered from his sense of injustice. "He can't sit still for long."

"Thanks for having me," Mikuni said, bowing, then scampered back out the door and disappeared. Tatsumi carefully put the Aquari bottle away, saving it for the boy's next visit. Watching what he was doing, Wakasa and Takasu suddenly became unsure of the stability of their positions in Tatsumi's household. Would Mikuni replace them?

"Do you like him better than us?" Wakasa asked anxiously. "Was it because he didn't ask for much?"

"Are we a burden on you?" Takasu chimed in. "Did we eat too much beef stew?"

Tatsumi glared at them to shut up, and Takasu scowled and sulked.

"Fine," he said, pouting, "we can always Dumpster dive and bring you food."

Wakasa latched onto the idea, suggesting to Takasu the best places they could go. Tatsumi listen to the two of the brainstorming, wondering what kind of life a person would have to live to know the best places to Dumpster dive. He was glad he had saved Wakasa from that life: the blond deserved better than such a harsh existence.

"I don't need you to do that for me," he cut in, not wanting them to get to serious about their food salvaging plans. Now that Wakasa had a better life, he didn't his roommate to have to go through anything like the hardships he'd had to go through to survive before Tatsumi had taken him in. Wakasa lived with _him_ now, and Tatsumi mentally promised himself that he would always provide the blond with enough to make up for whatever lack he'd had to endure in the past.


	5. Trick or Treat!

A/N: Once again, I don't own Orenchi no Furo Jijou, and please enjoy chapter six! Also, my dear readers, I'm sorry I don't update this story nearly as often as my other ones.

When Tatsumi arrived home from work on that crisp October day, he was assaulted as soon as he opened the door.

"Trick or treat!" cried his three costumed friends enthusiastically.

He closed his eyes, then, after a long moment, reopened them, wondering if what he'd just seen was some kind of strange hallucination. It wasn't. Instead, there in front of him were his three friends, dressed up in elaborate Halloween costumes. On the left was Takasu, white fang tips poking out of his mouth. He was draped in a black cloak and wore a costume cravat that Tatsumi figured would have looked weird in any other situation. Takasu, however, looked natural as a vampire, his gangster appearance adding just the right amount of dangerous necessary for the look. Even his fuschia hair added to the costume, reminding the viewer of the rich blood vampires relied on for their sustenance. Standing beside him, strangely doubly costumed, was Mikuni. The young boy was still wearing the ghost costume Tatsumi had never seen him out of, but today he had wrapped a variety of strips of cloth around his thin body, transforming into a ghost mummy. Tatsumi wondered that the skinny boy didn't just keep to his primary costume, but he recalled from their previous exchange that Mikuni actually thought he was a ghost, so he wouldn't see that as Halloween wear. Adding a mummy costume on top of it was a bit odd, but it seemed that even "ghosts" celebrated Halloween with traditional costumes.

On the right stood his roommate, blond hair streaming down his back. At first blush, he appeared to be garbed as a witch, but as Tatsumi looked closer, the vague idea that

Wakasa was intending to be taken for a magical girl came to him. When he thought it, he was certain it was true; it seemed to him something completely typical of Wakasa. The blond wore a witch hat, a pair of black sweatpants Tatsumi had bought him, and a cloak of shimmery black, his chest left bare. Tatsumi wasn't sure if it was costume laziness or he was going the slutty Halloween route, but either way, it gave him ample view of Wakasa's attractive body. His eyes tracing across the man's chest, he noted with pleasure that the scars he had worried over tracing Wakasa's body were beginning to fade. Once again, he felt strongly what a good decision he had made in helping Wakasa get off the streets to somewhere he would be safe.

"Are you supposed to be a magical girl?" he asked hesitantly.

Lazily shutting his eyelids and gently waving his star-tipped wand, Wakasa replied.

"It's the fate of someone with hair as beautiful as mine to dress up as a woman," he said. Tatsumi raised his eyebrows, debating this opinion, but he didn't complain about the man's costume–he looked good in it, after all.

"Trick or treat!" the three repeated, drawing his attention back to the important matter at hand.

"Ah, just wait a moment, I forgot to get Halloween candy," he admitted, suitably chastened. The three made disappointed faces at him and leapt upon him, tickling him within an inch of his life as punishment for his forgetfulness. Complaining of the unfairness of three-on-one, he responded to their physical reprimand with a shamefaced look, promising he'd go buy them candy and come right back. Mikuni nodded, satisfied by his promise, and Tatsumi returned back down to street level and out to the shopping district.

When he got there, the place was so thematically decorated that he wondered that he had forgotten what day it was. At work, they hadn't celebrated it–it didn't make much sense to do so at a ramen shop–but he had noticed the many costumed customers. For some reason, he had assumed there was some sort of cosplay event going on, forgetting it was the end of the month. Here, however, it couldn't be more obvious; every shopkeeper had dressed up advertise their products and there were paper cutouts of ghosts, black cats, and pumpkins hanging everywhere. Streamers of orange and black laced through the air, and he could hear the sounds of children begging their parents to buy them more candy. Not that different from what he had at home, he thought humorously.

Heading into the supermarket he typically frequented, he noticed they had a candy display arranged prominently up front; naturally they wanted to make sure none of their customers could possibly miss it. A good way to get parents with kids in tow to be unwittingly forced into making extra purchases, too. Striding up to the display, he inspected it and finally chose a large bag with an assortment of different treats, not sure what kind of candy his three trick-or-treaters liked best. They would probably be content with any variety as long as he brought home a lot of it, he reasoned.

As he was about to leave the shopping district, his eyes were drawn by a display of pumpkins that the produce stand owner had arranged for the holiday. He should get some of those, too, to decorate his apartment. It might be fun to carve them, like he had done with his little sister when they were younger. His parents were probably hosting their annual Halloween party tonight for Kazumi, he thought, and he hoped his little sister would have as much fun this year without him as she had in previous years when he had been there to entertain her.

On his way back, he had to work hard to carry his armful of Halloween items; he had eventually bought two decently-sized pumpkins to add to the heavy bag of candy. Carrying them would be worth it, he knew, anticipating the smiles on those three faces when he returned.

When he opened the door once again, the three repeated their holiday greeting, saying,

"Trick or treat!" in cheerful, candy-anticipating voices. They perked up even more when they saw the gigantic bag of candy he held in his arms, enticed by its sugary goodness.

Setting the bag down, he reached behind him to pick up one of the pumpkins he had set down, holding it up proudly. As soon as Takasu saw it, however, he whipped out a lethally sharp knife from somewhere within his costume, and Tatsumi, Mikuni and Wakasa involuntarily flinched.

"For carving," he explained, taking the pumpkin from Tatsumi's hesitant hands and turning his back on them to begin his artistic work. An amazingly short time later, he turned back, a creepy Jack-o'-Lantern face sliced into the pumpkin's orange flesh.

"Wow!" exclaimed Wakasa, Mikuni, and Tatsumi together. The former two, it seemed, had never seen a carved pumpkin, except once it had already moved into the early stages of rot and been disposed of. Tatsumi, who had, was still impressed by the dexterity and speed with which the gangster had completed the carving. He supposed it was one of the few positive benefits to being skilled with a knife–that same slicing agility that hurt any attackers could also be used for artistic purposes. He handed Takasu the other pumpkin, and in no time the fuchsia-haired man had etched a cat into its fleshy surface. Unable to forget that Takasu likely used his knife skills mostly on other people, Tatsumi wondered where he had learned to carve pumpkins so well.

More important than any sculpture creation, though, was the bag of candy sitting at his feet. Motivated by the hungry shining of three pairs of eyes, Tatsumi lifted the bag and tore it open.

"Trick or treat!" the three costumed supplicants repeated for the fourth time. Obediently, Tatsumi gave each a handful of candy from his bag. Marveling at the variety (it seemed he had guessed right about their preference for many different types of candy), they began stuffing handfuls of chocolate and sugar into their empty mouths.

"Again! Again!" one after another of them cried, and Tatsumi consented, handing them handful after handful of candy, wondering that even Mikuni would eat a lot of candy.

At last, the bag was three-quarters of the way empty, but the three candy-hungry trick-or-treaters hadn't yet had enough.

"Aren't you done yet?" he complained, his arm tired from reaching in and out of the bag time after time.

"More, please!" Mikuni requested, his youth making him adorable.  
"I'd like to eat some more too," Takasu added, sounding almost confused at his unquenchable desire for Halloween candy.

Beaming his most compelling smile, Wakasa joined in.

"Please, Tatsumi?" he begged. "I _need_ more."

He waved his wand lightly as he spoke, and his spell reached Tatsumi's heart, turning it in the blond's favor.  
"Fine," he said, reaching into the bag for what would be the final time. Taking the remaining handfuls of candy, he threw them like a sugar-laden rain over the three costumed penitents, showering them with the sweet treats they so desperately desired. Cries of pleasure filled the apartment as the three reached out to collect as many candies as they could.

"Wow, it's so much candy!" Wakasa proclaimed, his hands piled with a small mountain of treats.

"I'm really excited to eat it," Takasu added, licking off the chocolate that already coated his lips.

Only Mikuni looked to where Tatsumi was shaking out the empty bag, checking to see if there were any small pieces left.

"Tatsumi," he began timidly. "Where's your candy?"

Tatsumi's lips pulled into a small smile at the young boy's thoughtfulness.

"I'm the one giving out the candy, Mikuni-kun," he explained. "I don't need any."

Wakasa and Takasu looked up from their piles of candy at his reply, shocked and ashamed that they had forgotten him in their sugar rush.

"Don't be silly, Tatsumi, you get candy too," Wakasa insisted, pulling a pair of cat ears out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "Put these on."

Tatsumi took the ears from Wakasa, reluctant to put them on. Seeing his hesitation, Takasu stepped in.

"Come on," he implored. "You're a kid, and kids have to get candy on Halloween."

Tatsumi narrowed his eyes. "Really?"

He was met by fond smiles from all three costumed revelers.

"Really," Wakasa replied.

Sighing and releasing any preventative dignity, he placed the ears over his tousled black hair.

"Trick or treat," the three prompted him.

Blushing, he looked to the ground in his embarrassment. This was something for little kids, wasn't it? But he didn't want to disappoint them, especially Wakasa.

"Trick or treat," he hesitantly offered.

He was rewarded by Wakasa's bright grin and a handful of candy. Blushing darker, he focused on opening a plastic wrapper, not making eye contact with his three friends. Popping the chocolate into his mouth, though, he had to admit how sweet and delicious it tasted. Perhaps getting candy for Halloween wasn't only for children after all, he thought.


	6. Yuki

A/N: Don't own OFJ. Please enjoy chapter six!

Episode 6: Yuki

"Tatsumi, can we have a pillow fight?"  
The two young men were sitting on Tatsumi's bed, whiling away the raven-haired boy's rare Sunday off. Tatsumi had decided to use the relaxation period to peruse a novel he'd been keeping ready on his bookshelf in preparation for a moment such as this. Unfortunately–or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it–his new shared living situation with Wakasa had added new, Wakasa-centric activities to his life, putting an end to the portion of his downtime he typically spent in literary pursuits. The blond man's attention span wasn't suitable for reading; instead, he preferred to bother Tatsumi whenever the dark-haired man cracked open a book until the aforementioned individual put down the story and played whatever new game Wakasa had discovered or told him everything about whatever strange new interest the blond had developed. It was certainly a much more dynamic, surprising life than how he'd passed his days before Wakasa came to his home. And while Tatsumi certainly didn't want to go back to the time before the joyful blond man entered his life, he couldn't help but admit there were times when he missed his peaceful reading sessions.

So when Wakasa had announced he was going to watch his favorite show "Fairy Princess Saves the Day" (or at least that was what Tatsumi would have named it based on the content), his black-haired roommate decided to seize the chance to get some quality time with his waiting book. Wakasa sat excitedly at the edge of the bed, hugging his knees to his chest, his blond hair streaming out like a gossamer blanket behind him. Tatsumi, who had developed the ability to screen out the sounds of any magical girl-based anime courtesy of Kazumi, settled himself so he was leaned comfortably against the headboard and immersed himself in his book.

He had gotten to the zoning out the rest of the world in favor of the world inside the book stage every reader knows so well when Wakasa suddenly asked his completely unanticipatable question.

"What?" he asked, thinking he must have misheard his childlike friend.

"A pillow fight," the blond man repeated, turning to face Tatsumi. Removed from his reading daze, Tatsumi realized he could hear the all-too-familiar strains of "Fairy Princess Saves the Day"'s end credits. Wakasa must have finished with the episode he had set out to watch. Tatsumi sighed, ruminating on how, once again, he had ended up in an apartment where he could identify the end credit music to a magical girl anime–and probably sing along, too, if the situation demanded. How had he managed to move away from one magical girl anime lover only to take up house with another? It certainly hadn't been his plan.

"What?" he asked again, this time inquiring more of the cause of the question than requesting a repetition of it.

"Michiko and Machiko had a pillow fight in "Twin Unicorns Fly!" and it looked like fun!" Wakasa exclaimed, a grin bright on his face.

" _Twin Unicorns Fly!"_? Tatsumi wondered. _Oh, so that's what "Fairy Princess Saves the Day" is really called. I guess I wasn't that far off._ He smiled to himself, which, unfortunately, Wakasa seemed to take as a go-ahead for the pillow fight.

"Yay!" he exclaimed, reaching for his pillow at Tatsumi's side.

Hastily, Tatsumi grabbed the other end of the pillow, setting down his book at the same time. _Well_ , he thought, _I guess I knew that reading session wasn't going to last._ Wakasa might be bizarrely cute when he got his way, but Tatsumi wasn't about to let his blond roommate start swinging his pillow around.

"Wakasa," he said, his voice carefully measured. "Maybe we can talk about this? I'm not sure a pillow fight seems like the greatest idea."

Wakasa sagged, the bright enthusiasm draining out of him at the cautionary tone of Tatsumi's voice.

"It's just, pillows tend to get broken in pillow fights," Tatsumi explained, feeling his resolve weaken at the sight of Wakasa's saddened face. "And they're filled with feathers, you know? So it would be awfully hard to clean up if one did break. I just…" he trailed off, praying Wakasa would spontaneously lose interest in pillow fights. It was probably the only way the situation would end the way he wanted it too.

"But Tatsumi," Wakasa said, giving the golden-eyed man his best puppy dog eyes, "I've never had a pillow fight before."

The black-haired man paused, giving the matter some thought. It was true that, having grown up on the streets, Wakasa was unlikely to have encountered an instance of pillow fighting. That was something typically reserved for the bedrooms of those who watched magical girl anime, and being homeless, as Wakasa had been, meant a lack of access to such places. Tatsumi, of course, had participated in pillow fights in the past–he had a younger sister, so such a thing was par for the course. And as much as he hated to deprive Wakasa of any experience he had previously been lacking, the fact remained that he had no interest in being pummelled and even less interest in sweeping up the fallen feathers afterwards.

"Please," Wakasa begged, turning up his puppy eyes-level twentyfold.

Tatsumi, hit hard by the sudden wave of adorableness, loosened his grip on the pillow for a fatal second.

"I don't know," he replied, unaware he had already sealed his own doom. "It seems like a pretty girly thing…"

He was cut off abruptly by a well-placed pillow to the face.

"Tatsumi?" Wakasa asked, worried by the ensuing silence.

The black-haired man seized his own pillow from behind his back, his competitive spirit shining in his golden eyes.

"Don't forget, Wakasa, this is a fight!" he proclaimed, returning the blow with his own weapon.

The intensely combative cushion conflict between the two roommates that followed Tatsumi's declaration was not something that would be shown in a magical girl anime, or, for that matter, any children's anime. Perhaps this was because it featured two young men rather than a collection of young female children, but the fierce nature of the fight would far more likely prove the true explanation. For, you see, once Tatsumi had been inaugurated into the battle by Wakasa's well-aimed blow, he lost any compunction he might have had at the overly-little girl nature of the activity, feeling his warrior spirit, dormant since his last long-ago pillow fight with Kazumi, rise. The potential perishing of the pillows to their fatal feathery fate, too, he forgot, determined that he might be victorious in this combat. Instead, he and Wakasa were cast as two champions, each returning the other's strikes in kind.

One could detail every pillow punch, cushion cuff, and headrest hit that occurred within it, as well as the numerous blanket blows, sheet smacks and comforter clouts that punctuated it, but suffice it to say that a masterful attempt to defeat the other was put up by each, and in the end they both found themselves panting with the effort.

"That was even more fun than it looked when Michiko and Machiko did it!" Wakasa exclaimed, the sunny brightness of his broad grin nearly outshining his gleaming locks. Somehow, despite the chaos of the fight his hair still flowed flawlessly out behind him, not a strand in disarray. Even the blond's face was glowing, his cheeks faintly flushed from the exertion of combat, and Tatsumi had to struggle to convince himself the reason for his rapid heartbeat was only adrenaline from the battle. What could possibly have made him not want to have a pillow fight with Wakasa? Any activity partaken in with his cheerful roommate couldn't fail to infect the dark-haired man's heart with the blond's bubbliness. He returned Wakasa's brilliant smile with a more subdued one of his own.

Wakasa opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment, Tatsumi's phone rang. Checking the caller ID, he saw it was his mother and remember she had mentioned to him she would be calling soon.

"I'd better take this," he told Wakasa, pretending not to see the slight hitch in the blond's smile at the interruption. He showed his roommate the screen in explanation, adding, "My mother. It's probably about Kazumi."

Getting up off the bed, he left the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

Wakasa, left sitting by himself, took up one of the pillows that had been used in the battle and started turning it around in his hands.

"I wonder what they're talking about?" he asked aloud, worry clouding his usually sunny voice. He had gathered from Tatsumi's almost-disguised moments of unease throughout their cohabitation that taking in a homeless man from the streets wasn't something anyone would do, and that his presence there was a weight on Tatsumi. He couldn't help himself from thinking, at times when Tatsumi was at work or school, that no matter how he smiled and laughed and tried to make the dark-haired man like him he was always at risk. Any day Tatsumi could decide he no longer wanted to take care of a stray like him. And it worried him, too, that Tatsumi had to keep his presence a secret from everyone else in his life because of how out of the ordinary his behavior in taking in Wakasa at random had been. More than one night he woken up from a nightmare about being discovered and forced out, pushed back to the gang he'd left the underpass to escape from. At such times, only Tatsumi's calming warmth at his side could settled his thoughts, and Wakasa was determined to hold on to him as long as the golden-eyed man would allow.

"It's funny Tatsumi said feathers would get everywhere," he mused, glad to leave his serious pondering. Looking down at the pillow he had been tumbling in his hands, he continued, "I don't think there are any holes in this at all."

But no sooner had he spoke than he felt one of his fingers slip into a gap in the fabric. His eyes widened, simultaneously anxious at Tatsumi's disapproval and excited at what new encounter he would discover next. Taking hold of a feather with the tips of his fingers, he gently withdrew it through the breach. Laughing, he marvelled at its white fluffiness. It was nothing like the matted black feathers of the crows that congregated under the bridge that had been his home. How beautiful! Losing sight of Tatsumi's concerns, he grinned and tugged the pillow perforation broader. He took handfuls of the lovely white feathers, tossing them into the sky and watching them rain back down over where he sat.

"Yay! It's snowing!" the blond man cried, delighted.

"Wakasa?" Tatsumi's voice called out. He had finally finished his call and come back, Wakasa thought, now he can see the snow! Tragically, the blond had forgotten stray feathers had been the cause of his roommate's initial apprehension at idea of the pillow fight.

There was a click as the door handle turned, then Tatsumi entered the blizzard.

"Wa-ka-sa…" he growled, his golden eyes alit with a menacing glow. A dangerous purple aura surrounding him, the black-haired man advanced threateningly on the blond, clearly intending to give him a strict talking-to for his snowy fun.

 _Think fast!_ Wakasa told himself, reminded of his thoughts about the state he would be in if Tatsumi abandoned him.

"Is this what it's like when it snows up north?" he asked smilingly, desperately injecting his words with a maximum dosage of cuteness.

Tatsumi's face froze. If he hadn't see it many times before, Wakasa's insides would have gone glacial at the sight, but exposure had familiarized him enough to know it was Tatsumi's usual does-not-compute expression–the one he wore whenever he was trying to be mad at Wakasa in spite of himself. The bubbly blond sighed with relief: he was getting out of jail free again. Another thing to add to the ever-growing list of things to thank his hospitable roommate for. After a moment or two, the expression fell from Tatsumi's face and the dark-haired man, too, sighed deeply, sinking his head into one hand.

"I guess I saw that coming," he muttered, resuming his seat beside Wakasa on the bed. White feathers, fluttering through the air, began to accumulate in his hair.

"Not exactly," he began, answering Wakasa's snow query. The tiniest smile replaced his hazardous look, "snowflakes don't get bigger the farther you go north or anything. But there are a lot more of them, and the snow piles up on the ground, so that's what makes it look white all around."

Hanging on every word of Tatsumi's snow lesson, Wakasa shone as brightly as he could. It was his way of repaying at least a little of the unending generosity and forgiveness Tatsumi always showed him.


End file.
